


Croatoan ABO 'verse Collection

by addictcas



Series: Croatoan ABO 'verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU: Dean is Not a Total Dick, Aftercare, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Biting, Blood and Injury, Bond Breaking, Bottom Alpha, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Chuck Shurley is Not God, Claiming, Comeplay, Coming In Pants, Croatoans, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Episode: s05e04 The End, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Frottage, Gentle Dom Castiel, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Mirror Sex, Miscarriage, Mpreg, NO rape, Nephilim, Nesting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Castiel, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Prejudice, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Castiel, Post Mpreg, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychosis, Public Claiming, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Self-Lubrication, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, True Mates, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8612278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictcas/pseuds/addictcas
Summary: Dean and Cas struggle to maintain a relationship when the world is falling apart around them. They are faced with a world taken over by the Croatoan virus, a camp full of empty stomachs, a miscarriage, and more. (Endverse AU; alpha!Dean, omega!Cas)This is going to be all of the series that I have written so far because I know how hard it is to figure out the order of works in a series when you've downloaded the fics onto your phone, tablet, etc.Posting caught up. Read tags for triggers (mostly canon-typical Endversy stuff). Read notes for chapter 2 if you're worried about the Rape/Non-Con warning (there is no sexual touching involved).





	1. Part 1: Heat - Chapter 1/1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinders/gifts), [Hannah_ruth_990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannah_ruth_990/gifts), [TheTeapotOfFandoms666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeapotOfFandoms666/gifts), [ThefangirlingBread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThefangirlingBread/gifts).



> Gifted just a few of my incredible followers who have been so kind, motivating, and encouraging, leaving tons of comments that make me so happy I could cry and keep me going. I wish I could gift to one amazing girl who inspired much of this with her suggestions, but her account has been deleted. If you're still reading, I love you. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel goes through his first human heat. Dean is there to help.

Camp Chitaqua has been out of heat suppressants for three months now; so Castiel isn’t surprised when he wakes up to sheets soaked with sweat and slick, rutting against his blanket in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure that’s built up in his groin. Nothing he’s heard from anyone else gives justice to what he’s feeling right now, like he’s burning from the inside out.

He looks around at the mostly naked bodies in his bed and on the floor and sees that his scent has woken up two dark-eyed alphas.

The alpha in the bed next to him, Travis or Trevor or something, runs a finger down his arm. “Need help with that, sweetheart?” Castiel shrugs him off and reaches for jeans he’s pretty sure belong to him. “Where’re you going? I know you wanna bend over and take my knot like the bitch you are.”

Castiel glares at him, disgusted. He’s never been anyone’s bitch and he never will be. “How charming you are.”

The other alpha who Castiel definitely can’t name sidles up to him as he stands and pulls on the jeans. He puts his arms on his hips and presses his nose against Castiel’s neck, inhaling deeply. “Don’t pay attention to him, I’ll take care of you.”

Castiel pulls himself out of the alpha’s grip and grabs his t-shirt (much to the irritation of an Omega girl who was using it as a pillow). He puts it on as the second alpha leers at him.

“What are you covering up for?”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to look somewhere else for what you want.” Fuck overpowering, painful instincts, he's nowhere near horny enough to put up with this bullshit.

“C’mon, we all know you’re the camp slut.”

Castiel doesn’t exactly have a strong argument against that so he simply smiles and holds up his middle finger as he makes his way out of the bedroom.

He needs to find Dean. He needs Dean to soothe the flames that are singing every nerve ending, to pull him from this Hell just as Castiel raised Dean from perdition all those years ago. He knows no other alpha will satisfy his cravings. He only hopes Dean will want him, too.

Fingernails dig into his palms as his stomach twists nervously. Castiel is afraid of rejection. He’s afraid that this will change things for the worse, that Dean will distance himself even further than he had the day Sam had said “yes.” He bounces on the balls of his feet a few times before he musters up the courage to knock on the door of Dean’s cabin.

It takes a minute for the door to swing open, but when it does Dean’s nostrils flare and his pupils dilate. He grips the front of Castiel’s shirt and drags him inside, slamming the door behind him. The intoxicating scent of alpha, of _aroused_ alpha, washing over Cas' senses causes blood to flow downward into his already throbbing cock.

“The hell are you doin’ walking around outside smelling like that.” He’s leans forward a bit and Castiel can tell he resisting the urge to scent him. Dean's brow furrows into a deep frown that doesn't make him any less infuriatingly attractive.

“My cabin was… compromised.” None of them were _you_.

“Of course it was,” Dean snaps and Castiel can hear… jealousy?

Here goes nothing. “I would like your help.” Castiel steps forward and Dean moves away, glaring at him.

“Why don’t you get one of your ' _disciples_ ' to fuck you?”

“I don’t want any of them,” he says, cupping Dean’s jaw in a surprisingly tender gesture. Castiel doesn't usually  _do_ tender. "I want you.”

_I love you._

Castiel steps into Dean’s personal space and this time Dean doesn’t back away, letting Cas lean in so that their faces are mere inches apart.

“How long?” Dean croaks.

Castiel thinks back, tries to remember when he had fallen and broken beyond repair. “Since the green room.”

“Fuck, Cas.” Something in Dean breaks then and he buries his face in Castiel’s neck, breathing him in. “You smell incredible.”

Castiel groans as he feels Dean’s arousal pressed against his own. It’s a good sign, but he needs to know something before they can move things further.

“Would you want this, Dean, if I wasn’t in heat?”

Dean’s hands are on his ass now and he growls when he feels the patch where Castiel’s slick has soaked through the denim of his jeans. “I’ve wanted this for as long as you have.”

“Then tell me why we didn’t do this soon–” Castiel is cut off roughly by a kiss. It’s harsh and possessive and makes him feel like he’s flying, more than any chemical that has pumped through his veins. He’s glad he hasn’t taken anything recently because he needs to be here, one hundred percent. Castiel needs to feel every flick of Dean’s tongue, every fingernail scraping against his sweat-slick skin as Dean pulls his shirt over his head.

Castiel wraps his legs around Dean’s waist as he’s picked up and carried to the bed. The liplock they've entangled themselves in stays intact until Dean drops the omega on the mattress and unzips his jeans.

“Commando, Cas? Really?”

Castiel tilts his head because he’s not really sure what that means, and the alpha laughs at him as he peels the pants off.

Dean takes a few moments to just look at him with those lust-blown green eyes and Castiel squirms uncomfortably. He feels raw, exposed, and yet Dean is standing there fully clothed, just staring at him.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed for this party right now.”

That seems to break Dean out of whatever weird little trance he was under. “Right, sorry.” The alpha makes quick work of removing his clothes and crawling onto the bed. Their lips meet again for a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, and it’s wonderful but not nearly enough for Castiel.

“Hurry up and get your fingers in me, Dean.”

The other man looks at him with raised eyebrows. “You know, you’re really _bossy_ for an omega.”

“Bite me,” he retorts, realizing the other connotation a second too late. Dean makes nothing of it, though, nipping his ear playfully. He runs over the shell with his tongue and Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s shoulders. “I said hurry up.”

Dean huffs out an amused sigh. “Okay, okay.”

He doesn’t fucking listen, though. He places a hand on Castiel’s chest, right above his heart, and trails his fingers slowly, so slowly, down his body. He dips into the omega's navel, then through the thin trail of hair underneath, and when he finally reaches his cock it’s just a light skimming over the heated flesh. Castiel tries to press into it, to get some kind of friction, but by the time he moves the hand is giving his balls the same treatment. The touches offer no relief. They only fuel the aching want inside of him.

Dean is shamelessly grinding against his thigh by the time he gets his fingers where Castiel wants them. Still, the finger only circles the rim lightly.

Castiel tries to push down onto it. “Dean.”

“I’ve got you, baby, relax, ” he says, and he slides his finger all the way in. Normally Cas doesn't like endearments, finds names like 'sweetheart' and 'baby' condescending at best, especially coming from an alpha to an omega. But from Dean, it brings him a sense of just being wanted, cared for.

“Jesus, you’re tight.”

“I’ve never been fucked before,” Castiel blurts out before he can stop himself.

He can only find it in himself to regret his over-sharing for a few moments before Dean lights up like a fucking kid on Christmas morning. “Really?”

Castiel feels his face heating up. “I’ve been with plenty of guys, sure, and plenty of _alphas_ at that. But I’ve never let them– I only ever wanted you, I guess.” He’s embarrassed until Dean speaks up.

“I’ve uh, never been with a guy, period.” Castiel isn’t very surprised by this; when he was an angel and could see into Dean’s mind he discovered that despite having plenty of bisexual curiosities, he had never acted upon any of them. But Castiel hadn’t known for sure that that still remained true.

He feels a surge of possessiveness at Dean’s confession. They’re both _far_ from virgins, but this is something they share only with each other, and that warms him from the inside out. Castiel kisses him fiercely, trying to convey his happiness with what he just learned. Dean gives back as good as he gets and adds another finger. His lips move from Castiel’s mouth to his jaw, pressing hot kisses against his stubbled skin, then get to his neck and suck. _Hard_. Castiel knows he’ll be proudly wearing that mark for at least a week and a half.

Dean suddenly crooks his fingers and rubs against a spot that has Castiel arching off of the bed and seeing stars bursting behind his eyelids. When he comes back down to earth he sees Dean smiling at him with those perfect, kiss-swollen lips.

“Feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” Castiel pants. Good is an understatement. “Another finger, please.”

Dean obliges and goes back to his task of marking up Castiel’s neck, almost as if he knows what an erogenous zone that is for him. That, in addition to Dean repeatedly brushing against his prostate, has Castiel moaning and writhing on the mattress in no time, head pressed back deep into the pillow and fingers clenched in the sheets. It doesn’t take long before he feels stretched enough to take Dean’s length.

“I’m ready, Dean. Need your knot. _Now_.” Maybe Dean was a bit on-target with the 'bossy' remark.

“Can’t say no to that, can I?” He pulls his fingers out and leans away from Castiel’s neck. His eyes are dark with lust,  the tiniest slivers of green just visible around huge, black pupils.

Castiel tries to relax his muscles as the head of Dean’s cock breaches his rim. It burns a little but it’s not too uncomfortable. He tries to focus on Dean instead, on the taut muscles of his shoulders, the bow of his lips and the curve of his collarbone. Castiel runs his tongue across the protruding arch, tasting the salty skin there.

Dean takes his time inching his way in, and this surprises Castiel. He’s used to seeing alphas just take, pounding right into their omegas off the bat. But Dean is different, gentle.

“Am I hurting you?”

Right then, at Dean's concerned words, Castiel is so full of love for the man above him that he feels like he’s going to burst open with it. He wants to tell Dean, he wants to scream it to the whole fucking camp but he knows that would scare him away. Instead, he smiles and tells him, “No, Dean.”

“Okay, good,” he murmurs against his lips as he bottoms out.

The feeling is amazing, perfect, and he moans loudly because he finally feels _full_. This is where he's meant to be. Who he's meant to be _with_.

“Oh, God, Cas,” Dean groans, and he pulls out nearly all the way before thrusting back in. He sets a tantalizingly slow pace, and it’s not nearly enough for Castiel, so he rolls them over until Dean is on his back. The alpha looks surprised at the change of position, but then Cas raises himself up and slams his hips back down, wiping away the shock in Dean's expression and replacing it with unbridled ecstasy. Dean groans deeply, and Castiel grabs his shoulder and hauls him up until they’re both sitting upright so that their lips can meet hungrily. As Castiel rides him hard into the mattress Dean mouths at his chest, his neck, his ear, his face, everywhere he can reach. He runs fingers through Castiel’s hair and pulls gently while his other hand finds Castiel’s cock, leaking a generous amount of precome. At the same time, he thrusts up, hitting the omega’s prostate, causing him to cry out and clench around the cock inside him. Castiel can feel Dean’s knot swelling and catching on his rim.

“Fuck, Cas, that’s it, baby.” Dean’s moans are filling the room and Castiel had no idea he was this loud in bed. It’s driving him closer and closer to the edge until he feels dangerously close to falling off.

“Bite me. Claim me.”

Dean grips his hips and stops his relentless thrusting. “What?” He doesn’t look angry, just confused, like that was the last thing he expected to come out of Castiel’s mouth.

“Claim me. Dean, _please_.” Castiel doesn’t want to be _that_ omega, but right now he’s not above begging. His heart flutters as Dean bares his teeth. His cock hardens even more in anticipation what will be a dance between pleasure and pain, but when Dean lowers his open mouth to Castiel's neck he only presses his teeth softly before pulling away.

Castiel glares at him angrily. Dean is mocking him. “ _Don’t tease_.” He starts moving away, impending orgasm be damned because he’s _pissed_ , but Dean just tightens his grip on him.

“Just wait, Cas. We just need to get something straight first.”

Castiel decides to humor him and nods. It's partly because he is absolutely, ridiculously in love with the guy, partly because he's so horny he feels like his dick will explode if he doesn't come within the next three minutes.

“If you’re mine, you’re nobody else's got it?”

The omega lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and captures Dean’s lips in a bruising kiss. “All yours. Got it.”

Dean bucks up into him and Castiel starts moving again. It’s hard and fast and everything he never knew he needed until now. It’s like every neuron in his body is firing at the same time. And when Dean’s teeth finally pierce his skin he comes so hard he paints his fucking _chest_ with it. Dean follows right after, shouting out Castiel’s name and trembling as his knot fills up, tying them together. He collapses soon after, pulling Castiel, his _mate_ , down with him.

Sated, Cas makes a soft, contented sigh and nuzzles into Dean’s neck. Warm arms wrap around him and a hand finds its way into his hair.

“You know, I’m not much for cuddling, but this is, uh, this is sorta nice.”

“Welcome to the dark side.”

“Shut up,” Dean says, but he presses a soft kiss to his Castiel’s forehead.

Cas falls asleep smiling.


	2. Part 2: Claim - Chapter 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the camp has a grudge against Dean, and he uses Cas to get to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rape/non-con warning is for non-consensual voyeurism, marking (with ejaculate), and claiming (not between Dean and Cas). No sexual touching is involved.

Dean smells Castiel before he sees him. He can smell the omega's blood, mingled with the scent of another alpha. Another alpha's _release_. He turns as Cas closes the cabin door. His mate is standing there, swaying on his feet, his neck bleeding from a bite, one covering Dean's _own_ mark. There is a small, wet, matted down section of hair that sends disgust and pure, unadulterated fury roiling through Dean's veins. He's in front of Cas in an instant, gripping his mate's shoulders.

“Who did this to you?”

Cas shrugs, looking around Dean's cabin, _their_ cabin, now, avoiding the alpha's gaze. “It doesn't matter. They were just some drunk alpha assholes. It's not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Dean yells, not even trying to rein in his anger. “You're bleeding, Cas. There's _come_ in your hair. How is that not a big fucking deal?”

The omega shoves him off, going to their bed and sitting down on it. “They didn't touch me, not in the way you're thinking.”

Relief washes over Dean, but it does nothing to subdue the rage that's gripping his chest in a suffocating vice. Then he notices the blood on Cas' shirt, splotches scattered across his stomach. He sits down next to him and starts to lift the stained fabric, but Castiel grabs the hem and pulls it back down.

“Let me see, Cas.” Dean pulls his mate's hands away from the shirt and lifts it up. When he sees it, his vision is clouded with red. Cut into Castiel's skin is the word 'BITCH.'

“Who did this?” he growls. He grabs Cas' chin and jerks his head up so he's finally looking at him.

“I don't know their names. We were playing cards. They slipped me something. I was pretty out of it when it happened.” Cas leans forward, resting his head in the crook of his alpha's neck. “They're handcuffed in Risa's cabin. She heard me and came to help.” Dean needs to remember to thank her.

“Stay here,” Dean tells him, pulling his mate's t-shirt over his head. “I'm going to the med cabin.” He leaves Cas on the bed, collecting antibacterial ointments, bandages, gauze, and a wet cloth. When he comes back the omega is curled up on the bed.

“Sit up.” Cas does as he's told and Dean takes the cloth and starts dabbing at the wounds. He starts with his neck, then cleans the cuts on his stomach. He saves his hair for last, scrubbing out the semen that's already dried, causing a whole new wave of anger rushing over him.

He coats every injury with the ointment, then puts a big square bandage on his neck and wraps his lower body with gauze. Then Dean grabs him a clean shirt and helps him get it on.

“Come with me.” He storms out of the cabin, Cas at his tail. Chuck is nearby, and Dean tells him to get everyone in the camp together at the front gate and to tell Risa to bring the two handcuffed alphas with her.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas is struggling to keep up with him but Dean won't slow down.

“I'm gonna take care of them, Cas.”

When they reach the armory Cas grips his arm. “You're not going to kill them.”

Dean laughs mirthlessly at that. “No, I'm not.” But they're going to wish he had. He grabs a handgun, just one. Cas tries to take it from him.

“This is what they want, Dean. They want you angry.”

“Yeah, and why is that?” Why would they go after _Cas_ , not him?

“One of the guys... he said you slept with his mate. Melissa or something.”

Dean has no idea what the hell he's talking about. “Cas, you know I wouldn't–”

“No, I know,” Cas says as they head toward the front gate. “He said it was before me. That she said you forced her.”

“Bullshit.” Dean may be an asshole, but he sure as hell is no fucking _rapist_. “She probably went home smelling like me and didn't wanna get caught sleeping around. She's easy; she's probably fucked more people here than I have.”

Castiel beams at him. “That's what I said!” He looks way too fucking happy for the current situation they're in.

“Yeah, yeah, good for you.”

A few minutes later they're at the front gate where the entirety of the camp is gathered, most of them looking around in confusion. Risa and Yaeger are in the middle of it all, each holding on to a struggling alpha.

“Release them.” Dean grabs Cas by the arm and drags him up to the two freed men. “What are your names?”

The alphas are both looking at Dean with self-satisfied smirks. “He's Ryan. And I'm Chris," the taller one says. "A few months ago you took my mate. So... we took yours.”

Dean feels bone break under his hand as it collides with alpha's jaw. Chris spits blood onto the ground at Dean's feet, the smile never leaving his face. “That bitch screamed real pretty, too.” A blow to the cheek. Same sick smile. His friend remains silent.

“Maybe if you weren't so quick to label omegas as _bitches_ , your mate wouldn't go running off to any decent alpha who's willing to knot her.” The smile falls off of the man's face and turns into a sneer.

Dean backs off, walking to stand behind Cas. Without warning, he sinks his teeth into the omega's neck, opposite the fresh wound. Castiel lets out a soft “ah” and “ _Dean_ ” and Dean can smell a rush of arousal at his public act of claiming. He walks back up to Chris and spits Cas' blood onto the stain of alpha blood in the dirt.

“Cas is _my mate_. And you're gonna pay for what you did to him.” He pulls the handgun out of his waistband and waves it in front of the pair.

Ryan speaks up for the first time, laughing. “You're going to kill us?”

Dean laughs right back at him. “No. This is for you two.” He holds it out to Chris who takes it hesitantly. The other alpha points it at Dean, then reconsiders and lowers it, probably figuring shooting their leader wouldn't sit well with the other soldiers.

“And why do I need this?”

Dean reaches down and yanks Chris up by his jacket collar. “Risa.” He gestures to her and she grabs the other alpha. Dean walks to the gate and Risa follows. “Chuck.”

The skittish man blinks at him in confusion. “Dean?”

“Open the gate.” Chuck is the only person in camp who has a key. He stares at Dean, who glares at him until he takes it out of his pocket and pushes it into the padlock, unlocking it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” It's Ryan, and he's looking between Dean and Chuck with wide, terrified eyes.

“You two are leaving.”

Chris' mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “You can't do this. There are _croats_ out there.”

“Not my fucking problem.” Dean looks around at the crowd. “Any objections?” Nobody speaks up. “That's what I thought. Now get out.” He shoves Chris out the gate, and Risa follows with Ryan. Dean has a huge smile on his face when he closes it behind him, re-locking the padlock.

“Should anyone aid these men, you will find yourself on the other side of that gate faster than you can say Croatoan. Got it?” There are yeses and nods across the group, who are watching the scene in shocked silence. “Good. C'mon, Cas.” Dean grabs his omega's arm and leads him back to their cabin.

 Α|Ω

The scent of arousal is radiating off of Castiel's skin as Dean pulls him into the bathroom, turning his mate around to face the mirror and pulling his shirt collar to the side, revealing the entire claim mark.

“Look at this, Cas.” Dean presses his lips to the knob at the top of his spine. “See that?”

Cas nods and moans out a, “Yes.”

“You're _mine_.” He reaches around and presses the palm of his hand against the omega's already straining erection. “No one else gets to touch you like this.” Dean looks at Cas' reflection; his mate's eyes are closed, his lips parted, his head tilted back.

“ _Please_ , Dean.” He drags his hand across Castiel's cock again, and his mate pushes up into the pressure. “Stop teasing and fuck me.”

Dean huffs out a laugh at that. A former angel of the Lord, cursing like a sailor. It will never _not_ be funny. Still, he'll indulge him soon enough, before he starts getting really cranky. Castiel's been through enough tonight as it is.

He makes a show of removing Cas' clothes, going slowly and dragging his fingers across the heated flesh. “Look at yourself,” he whispers when he's done. The fallen angel turns, probably to get Dean undressed, but the alpha holds him in place. “I want you to watch. Like this.” He inclines his head toward the mirror. “I don't want you to look away.”

Cas nods, Adam's apple bobbing in a hard swallow.

Dean is much quicker at taking off his own clothes, needing the feeling of skin against skin as quickly as possible. He presses himself against Castiel's body when he's finished, nudging one thigh in between both of Cas' and feeling how much sweet-smelling slick is dripping down his legs.

“God, you really want this, don't you, baby?”

The omega groans and grinds his ass against Dean's dick. “Don't ask stupid questions.”

Dean pushes out another breathy laugh and trails a finger down Cas' back, over the crest of his ass, all the way down to his damp entrance. He presses against it but not inside. “Don't get snappy.”

Castiel pushes back, whining when Dean pulls away. “I hate you.”

“No you don't,” Dean tells him, nipping at his shoulder.

“No, unfortunately, I don't. Now stop being an asshole and fucking _touch me_.”

As much as Dean loves fucking with his bossy omega, his cruelty does know limits. He doesn't tease this time, just slides two fingers in him straight away because he knows Cas can take it. His mate grips the sink until his knuckles are white, rocking back onto Dean's hand. He's making these breathless little noises as Dean works him open, and when he knows Cas is ready he adds a third finger.

“Oh, God. Fuck, Dean, _yes_.”

It's not long before the omega breathes out, “Now,” and Dean is pulling out his fingers and lining up his cock. He soaks up the needy, keening sound Cas makes as he pushes in to the hilt. His mate has been extremely vocal with him since that night they'd bonded, and this time is no exception. Dean cherishes every gasp, whine, and moan that escapes Cas' full lips as the move together in tandem in, slow, long, deliberate thrusts.

Cas tastes incredible under Dean's tongue as he licks his way across his shoulders. He can feel the taut muscles rolling under his tanned skin as Dean laves at it. When he gets to the fresh claim mark on Castiel's neck he bites down gently on the sensitive flesh, pulling blood to the surface again as Cas lets out a choked-off groan.

“Yours, Dean, I'm yours. Always.”

This ignites something in Dean like a match, something dark and possessive. He sent people to their inevitable deaths today for hurting Cas, his mate, and he would do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, he might even pull the trigger himself if it happened a second time.

With that though he jerks his hips harder into tight heat of his omega, who's shaking and slamming back against Dean desperately and moaning out curses like a fucking porn star if porn were ten times hotter. There's no rhythm to it, no finesse, just sweat and slick and pleasure and _love_ , as Dean realizes, though he would never admit to it out loud. The thought does, however, add a certain heat to his chest that goes quite nicely with the heat pooling low in his stomach, the painful curl of arousal that's making it hard for Dean to breathe. He trails hot kisses across Castiel's back, nipping occasionally, trying to convey everything he's feeling without having to say the words.

He thinks it's working; Cas is close, he can tell by the way he's flushed and panting, clenching around Dean's cock.

“Oh, God, Dean, _fuck_.” He screws his eyes shut and slams his hand against the glass of the mirror when Dean reaches around and fists his erection, and with one stroke and a thumb skimming across the head he's coming all over Dean's hand and the sink with a low cry.

Dean himself is on the razor's edge of orgasm as he pulls out before his knot can catch; he has other plans. He ruts against Cas' back for a few seconds before he grips his mate's hips and covers his lower back in come. He runs his hand through it and turns Cas around, smearing it across the omega's chest in a possessive gesture. People will be smelling Dean on him for _days_.

Cas squints down at his chest and up at Dean. “Was that necessary?” he asks once he's caught his breath. Dean drops his head against Castiel's shoulder, inhaling the intoxicating scent of their arousals mixed together.

“Now they'll all know.”

Dean's eyes are closed but he can feel Cas pulling away. He's just barely opened his eyes when he sees the omega dip his hand in the sink and brings it back out to rub all over Dean's chest.

“Oh, look, I can do it too.” Cas stares smugly at him before he pulls Dean's shoulder to his mouth.

“Cas, what are you– _Jesus fuck_ , ow!” He looks in the mirror when his mate pulls away and sure enough, there are two bloody crescents at the junction between his shoulder and neck. Cas has a big-ass smile on his face as he wipes his mouth.

“And now you're mine.”

Dean, at a loss for words, just kisses him.


	3. Part 3: High - Chapter 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel get trapped in a pharmacy.

“You stupid. Fucking. Idiot.” Dean punctuates each word with a shove until Castiel is pushed up against a shelf, pills falling to the floor around them.

“Don't you think that's a little redundant?” Cas twists off the cap of one of the bottles he's holding and pops two tabs into his mouth like they're candy. It could be Vicodin, Xanax, codeine, Adderall, who the fuck knows. Dean doesn't even think Cas looked at the label.

“I'm allowed to be redundant after we almost _died_ because you needed to take this little detour!”

Castiel starts picking through the shelves, handing Dean bottles as he goes. “Be a doll and put these in my bag for me.”

Dean gapes at him. “ _Excuse me_?” The omega's attitude is really not earning him any brownie points right now, and he desperately needs them at this point.

Cas rolls his eyes and slides his duffel off of Dean's shoulder, stuffing some pills inside. “I didn't ask you to come with me.” He moves to another aisle and the alpha storms after him.

“And what was I supposed to do, huh?” Dean doesn't care if he's yelling, the croats already know they're here, behind the massive barricade they set up. “Let you run off and get your druggie ass killed? Or even worse, _turned_?” Dean feels a wave of nausea at the thought of having to put a bullet between Cas' eyes.

The annoying omega just shrugs and tosses some unsatisfactory medications over his shoulder. He's apparently gotten all that was left of “the good stuff” so walks to the counter and hops up onto it nonchalantly. It's infuriating.

“You're my _mate_ , Cas!” Dean grabs his shoulders and shakes him, hard, hoping to knock some sense into him. “I love you and you're _so_ _fucking_ _stupid_.” And then some of the fight gets lost in the realization that he just said the _L_ word for the first time in probably his entire life.

Castiel grabs the collar of the alpha's jacket and pulls him close, squinting at him. “You love me?” he asks skeptically.

Dean sighs, defeated. It's already out, no take-backs. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

Cas slides forward on the counter so that Dean stands between his legs, and the alpha can feel that he's hard, and yes, that's definitely the sweet scent of arousal that he must have missed in his anger. The smell of it alone is enough to send some of the blood in his head rushing south, an instinctive reaction.

“Jesus, Cas, what did you take back there, Viagra?”

The omega shrugs for the _third time_ so Dean grabs his shoulders and jostles him around again. “If you shrug one more goddamn time.”

Castiel smirks like it was his intent to get Dean even more riled up. “What?” he asks innocently. “I like it when you go all _alpha_ on me.”

“You are bat-shit crazy, you know that?”

“Well, you're the one that–” Dean kisses him to shut him up because that's usually the most effective way to get Cas to stop talking. It works, but he doesn't stay quiet. The omega lets out all sorts of obscene moans that drive Dean crazy as he grinds his erection against Castiel's. It would normally be more than enough to make Dean tear off their clothes and take the fallen angel over the counter right then and there, but they've got an apocalypse going on right outside the doors and they're surrounded by croats. As torturous as it is smelling the slick and not be able to push into that wet heat, rutting against him through their jeans feels good enough, and from the way Cas is panting against his neck, he feels the same way.

Dean needs to feel some skin-on-skin, though, so he slides his hands into the back of his mate's jeans and grabs his ass, pulling them even more roughly against each other. They hear the counter start to creak under the pressure and it only encourages them to pick up the pace and roll their hips _harder_ , almost daring it to break. It definitely wouldn't be the first time they've destroyed public property.

Dean can tell when Castiel starts getting close by the way he is trembling and squeezing his legs around his waist, grazing his teeth against the claiming bite he left on Dean's shoulder all those months ago. It's not the natural order of things, an alpha being bitten by an omega, but somehow his orgasms always hit him harder when Cas re-opens the mark. He doesn't even try to cover it up, strange looks be damned.

Still, aside from the first time, Castiel has never bitten him without permission, so Dean groans out, “Do it, baby.”

Dean reaches down further into Cas' jeans and slides a finger inside him, and that's when the omega tenses up and shudders, crying out as he sinks his teeth in. The flash of pain, the feeling of the Cas clenching down on his finger and the sound he makes when he release hits him is enough to send Dean crashing into his own orgasm, coming in his pants is the middle of a fucking _CVS._

Castiel slumps against him as they catch their breath, hearing gunshots and Risa's voice yelling for them.

“I love you too, asshole.”


	4. Part 4: Switch - Chapter 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You want to do _what now_?"
> 
> In which Dean is asked the strangest question he's ever heard, says no, then says yes, and then kinda-sorta likes the results.

“You want to do _what now_?”

“You heard me, Dean.”

The alpha snaps his jaw shut because staring at Cas like a gaping fish is not ridding him of the look of sheer determination that's planted itself on the omega's stupidly attractive face.

“That's not—it doesn't work that way.”

Castiel crowds into Dean's space, backing him into the table. “Says who?” His voice has reached that husky, gravelly timbre that Dean hasn't heard since... well... since Cas was an angel.

“Says everyone! And... _biology_.”

The omega just shrugs, like he didn't just ask the weirdest fucking question Dean's ever heard in his life in regards to sex. And he's put on _panties_ , for God's sake.

“You may have forgotten, Dean, that I have a dick, too. One that is perfectly capable of anal penetration.”

The alpha scrubs a hand over his face, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“Jesus, Cas. You don't follow the word 'dick' with things like 'anal penetration.'”

“My apologies,” his mate bites out sarcastically.

“Look, I'm sorry,” Dean says. “But no, not gonna happen.”

Cas huffs out an angry breath and grabs Dean's shirt collar, pulling him forward until their noses are almost touching.

“I dragged your sorry ass out of the depths of Hell. I single-handedly tore through armies of demons when other angels turned and ran.”

Again with the fucking guilt trip. Too bad it works every time. “I know, Cas.”

“I know you more intimately than any other person on this planet ever has, and ever will.” Castiel's expression softens and he plants a brief kiss on his mate's lips. “I want you to know what it feels like to give up your alpha instincts, to be vulnerable.”

And then Cas is giving him that look, the one Dean can never say no to. The look that gets Dean to practice yoga on Sundays with him (just the two of them—Dean will take that secret to his grave), the look that got Dean to cut his alcohol consumption in half, even though Cas continues his drug use (Dean apparently has not mastered the doe-eyed, pleading expression his mate throws him when he wants something).

Dean caves.

“Fine,” he groans, feeling his cheeks flush. “Fucking—Jesus, fuck. Fine.”

His omega beams at him and Dean can pick up just from his scent how pleased he is.

“Just this once,” Dean clarifies.

“Deal.” Cas pecks him on the cheek.

“And you have to go slow.”

“Deal.” He nuzzles into the alpha's neck.

“And _nobody_ gets to know about it.”

Castiel pulls away, looking offended. “Of course, Dean. Don't you trust me?”

Dean kinda feels like shit at that. “You know I do, Cas. This is just... this is really weird for me, okay? I need a minute to wrap my head around it.”

“Take your time.” The omega's happy scent does not fade but becomes overlapped with a faint smell of arousal.

Dean finds comfort in that and tries to gain control of his breathing; it's become shaky. Dean Winchester, alpha, taking it up the ass like an omega. Like a—no, Dean doesn't view omegas as bitches. But society does, and if word got out he'd—but word is not gonna get out because Cas would never do that to him. Dean trusts his mate, more than he's ever trusted anyone else in his life, ever, and he can do this. He'll do this, just one time. He'll try it, for Cas.

“While you're mulling things over, I'll just...” the omega latches onto Dean's neck, sucking at his flesh and most likely leaving large, dark marks. Castiel, former angel of the Lord and alpha at heart, positively gets off on marking his claim. It helps Dean relax, just a little, focusing on the mouth that's licking and nipping, sending blood rushing south despite the alpha's nervousness. He walks Cas backward towards the bed, ridding them both of their shirts before pushing the omega into the mattress.

Dean's senses are overwhelmed by the sugary scent of slick, and he's shaking with the instinctual need to delve into that tight heat. He growls and lowers himself down over his mate, grinding their erections together.

“Easy, Dean,” Cas tells him, rolling them until Dean is on his back. “Give up control. Let me lead.”

It's not that that's anything new; the omega often displays dominance in the bedroom, but this is leading to something much different, something terrifying. The fallen angel must smell the fear because he kisses Dean's forehead softly, saying, “Relax. I'm going to make this good for you.” Then he presses another kiss to Dean's mouth, adding, “This won't make you any less of a badass.”

Dean laughs as his mate smirks, and he doesn't complain when his pants and boxers are pulled down in one swift motion. The cool night air only hits his cock for a second before Cas' mouth is on him. Dean immediately feels some of the tension in his body fading as panic starts easing away.

After a minute or so Castiel pops off of him and asks, “Have you ever fingered yourself? Or used any toys?”

“No, Cas. Shit,” Dean says as if the question is ridiculous. Because it is.

“It would be perfectly normal if you had.” Cas starts stroking him with his fist, looking up at Dean like he's going to make some big gay breakthrough with him.

“Look, save it for Dr. Phil, alright?” Is Dr. Phil even still alive? Dean read somewhere a while back that he'd been a demon all along, but that was probably in the Inquirer or some other shitty tabloid that positively soaked up all of the demonic apocalypse gossip. Either way, the idea of that bald son of a bitch with black eyes is immensely entertaining.

“I don't know who that is,” the omega says, tilting his head the way he always does when human things baffle him.

And that's one of the things Dean loves about Cas. He may have gained serious experience points in the down-and-dirty aspects of humanity—sex, drugs, violence—but he's still so goddamn clueless when it comes to pop culture.

“He's a—you know what, never mind. I'm just saying, less talk and more... you know. Let's just get this over with.”

“As you wish,” the Castiel says with that pissy attitude he acquires when he's 100% done with Dean's bullshit. He reaches down between his own legs and pulls his fingers back covered in slick, and _holy shit_ this is actually happening.

Dean jumps at the first touch against his rim and tries to hold still. There's no intrusion yet, just light circling. Cas is testing the waters, waiting for the all clear. Dean swallows loudly, then nods his head.

It's not comfortable when his mate slides in to the first knuckle, but he's gratefully distracted by the sinful mouth that's resumed sucking him off. He's being too gentle, though; Dean can take it. His hesitance is about pride, not pain.

“Come on, Cas. I can take more. I'm not made of porcelain."

The omega pulls his hand away to gather more slick, and then there are two fingers inside of him, as deep as they can get. At the same time, Cas does that thing with his tongue that, without fail, turns all of Dean's muscles into jelly. He tries to focus that relaxation into the muscles that is mate is currently scissoring open while making all sorts of happy noises that vibrate pleasantly through Dean's dick. The alpha is surprisingly hard as hell, despite his trepidation about the current situation. He decides to store that observation away for further contemplation when suddenly Cas crooks his fingers and—oh. Then Dean's back is arching and he's making a sound that should be embarrassing but he's too focused on how amazing it feels.

Cas pulls off of his cock to smirk at him (bastard) and adds a third finger and it's starting to feel... not so bad. He's even—no, not possible. He's certainly not looking forward to having more of his mate filling him up, because he's an alpha, and alphas don't like that shit. Except maybe Dean sorta does.

He grabs his omega by the hair and drags him up for a searing kiss, mumbling, “Do it,” into Cas' mouth.

Castiel coats himself in a generous amount of slick, the smell of which is intoxicating, moaning as he strokes his length a few times. The sight, combined with the thick hormone scents, has Dean's head spinning and his dick throbbing.

Dean is amazed by the control his mate is showing as he lines up and pushes in, so slowly, letting out a shaky breath as he drops his forehead to Dean's shoulder.

Now the alpha is craving more, wants the omega to _move_ , wants that spot hit again. “Come on, baby. Fuck me already.”

Cas presses a kiss to his mate's collarbone, pulling out almost all of the way before slamming back in, making sparks flash behind Dean's eyelids. After a few steady thrusts, he tilts the alpha's hips up. Dean wraps his legs around Cas' waist, and then his prostate is being hit with every roll of hips.

They're bending the rules, giving the finger to society, and it's exhilarating.

“Fuck, Cas. Yes, yes. God.”

Dean digs his nails into the omega's back, hard enough to break skin as Castiel's pace becomes ruthless, pushing Dean up the bed and bunching up the slick-soaked sheets.

“So beautiful like this, Dean.” The alpha almost protests out load, because he doesn't like being called that, but Cas sounds so blissed-out that he lets it slide. “All for me.”

“Just for you, Cas,” Dean gasps as his mate hits that spot, hard, and then waves of heat are pulsing through his body as he comes untouched, and isn't that the shock of the century.

“Always for my mate,” he whispers, once he's caught his breath.

It's the sappy stuff that always pushes Cas over the edge (Dean has trained himself to accommodate him, as strange as it felt the first few times), and tonight is no exception. The omega trembles as he rocks into Dean through his orgasm. He collapses on top of his mate, pulling out.

“Thank you, Dean," he says, eyes wide. "That was wonderful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. He feels come leaking out of him, and it's really strange, so he extricates himself to go clean up in the bathroom. When he gets back with a wet rag to wipe up the mess on Cas, too, his omega's eyes are closed and there's a sleepy smile on his face. Dean wants to tell him to savor the afterglow, to not get used to topping. But maybe that's not entirely the truth anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, they can do this again someday. _For Cas, of course,_ Dean tells himself, pulling his mate against his chest.


	5. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 1/6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel never wanted a baby, until he lost one.

“Dean.” Castiel groans out his mate's name, clenching around him as he bounces in the water, the smell of chlorine mingling with the scent of slick and arousal. Small, warm waves lap at Dean's neck, adding to the heat he feels from being inside Cas. The omega is breathing heavily, probably due to the temperature of the hot tub and the exertion it's taking him to ride Dean as hard as he is.

“ _Dean_.”

He sounds different now, desperate, and now Dean smells a faint hint of something else. Distress? He grabs his mate's hips, slowing his movement. He needs to figure out what's wrong.

“Dean!”

The alpha jerks upright in alertness. He's not in a hot tub at a luxurious resort. He's in bed, in his and Cas' cabin, in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, and the weight of that hits him hard every single time he wakes up from a fantasy. It's worse this time, though, because all he can smell of their “home” is Castiel's fear.

“Something's wrong.” Cas sounds terrified, and Dean's eyes don't need to adjust to the darkness to see why. There's blue light seeping out from beneath his mate's skin. The kind of light that angels give off when they're _dying_. Horror claws at Dean's chest and the only thing that's stopping him from going into full-on cardiac arrest is the fact that the light is only coming from his abdomen.

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean asks, trying and failing to remain collected for Castiel's sake.

“I don't know, Dean. It hurts.”

Stay calm. Stay calm.

“Stay calm, Cas.”

Rain pounds at the windows and thunder rumbles nearby, adding to the grim atmosphere in the room. A flash of lightening illuminates the cabin, and when it's gone, so is the glowing of the omega's stomach. Cas' eyes flutter closed, and Dean has never felt so terrified in his life. His fingers fly to Cas' throat, and thank God, there's a pulse, quick but steady.

Dean shakes him roughly. “Cas?”

His mate's eyes open, his gaze unfocused.

“Look at me, baby.” Once Castiel does, Dean pulls the omega up against his side, wrapping a strong arm around his waist. “I'm gonna get you to the med cabin, wake up Jane, and get you fixed up. You're gonna be fine,” the alpha says, unsure of his own words.

The two of them are in only their boxers, and the storm has brought with it a cold front, so Dean leaves Cas swaying on the bed to grab him a jacket, not bothering to grab himself one because timing is crucial right now.

Dean is just slipping the coat over his mate's shoulders when their bedroom door swings open. It's Chuck, eyes wide and hair wet and flattened down against his head.

“He's okay,” the prophet says hurriedly.

“How the hell do you know?” Dean snaps and Chuck flinches.

“I had a vision.”

Which is weird and concerning; he hasn't had one of those since the angels left.

Dean lifts Cas off the bed, taking most of his weight.

“Then what the fuck is happening?”

Chuck takes a deep breath, and the Dean smells blood.

“Dean,” Castiel says shakily, gripping Dean's shoulder tightly.

“Cas, what's wrong? Where are you bleeding?”

The prophet looks down and when Dean follows his gaze he sees rivulets of blood trickling down the inside of his mate's thighs. The smell of Castiel's panic is clouding his senses, and he just barely catches the word “miscarriage,” coming from Chuck.

Cas isn't dying, he losing a baby.

“He was glowing, why was he glowing?” Dean demands, and then he realizes. It wasn't the omega who was lighting up, it was the fetus. “Chuck, did we... did we make a nephilim?”

Castiel falls.


	6. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 2/6

“He's not an angel,” Dean repeats for the third time, pacing and staring at his mate, who lies pale and sweaty on the med cabin bed.

“He's not completely human,” Chuck explains again like he's talking to a child.

There have been a few signs to back his theory up. Lights flickering during sex, a burst bulb during a particularly heated argument. But they always wrote it off as coincidence.

“There's no other way this could have happened, Dean.” The prophet tells them.

“There could be traces of grace in me still,” Cas says wistfully, as if he could somehow muster up the strength to sprout wings again. This unsettles Dean, because if his mate is still an angel, and if he could channel that energy, he could leave him to go back to Heaven like he deserves. Get the fuck out of this shitstorm. “I'm just not powered-up enough to feel it.”

“I thought you were on birth control,” Dean says, changing the course of the conversation because the current topic is making him uneasy.

“I was,” Cas tells him defensively. “I _am_.”

“You didn't skip any by mistake?” He takes so many goddamn pills it's a wonder he can keep any of them straight.

“No. I'm not incompetent.”

“Birth control can sometimes be less effective with true mates,” Jane explains.

Dean stops pacing and stands next to the bed. He brushes some damp hair off of Castiel's forehead. His mate looks so small in the loose-fitting hospital gown, IV in one arm.

“Having a kid in the middle of an apocalypse wouldn't end well,” Dean tells him. “This is for the best.”

The devastated look on his mate's face hardens into a stone-cold glare.

“Get out.”

Dean looks to Chuck, then to Jane, seeing that they look about as shocked as he is.

“What?”

“I said get out,” the omega snaps harshly.

Dean had only meant for it to make Cas feel better, but now he can tell by his mate's glower and the sour scent of his rage that he only thoroughly pissed him off.

“You know it's true,” Dean says stupidly instead of apologizing like he should.

“There is no way that the loss of an innocent life is 'for the best.'”

“Did you even want a baby?” Dean asks, digging his hole a little deeper.

“No.”

“Then I don't know what the big deal is.”

Jane sighs audibly and Chuck honest-to-God slaps a palm to his forehead. The alpha knows he's fucked.

“Get. The fuck. Out. You insensitive asshole,” Cas bites out, and then the lights are flickering. If that isn't a sign that his mate has some remnants of grace left, Dean doesn't know what is. And that scares the shit out of Dean.

“Fine.” He makes his way towards the door, despite his natural instinct to stay with his omega, to comfort him.

Cas must be absolutely furious, because before Dean even grabs the knob the door swings open, nearly hitting him in the face. Dean hurries out, slamming the door behind him and heading out into the rain.


	7. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 3/6

Dean sits outside of the med cabin for two and a half hours, drenched and freezing his ass off as he watches the sky go from dark, bleak gray to light, bleak gray until Jane comes out and tells him that Cas says he can come back inside.

When he gets up and walks toward the door she asks, “Don't you want to go back to your cabin and change?"

He's only in his soaked boxers, probably giving everyone who sees him a nice show of the goods, but he needs to be with is mate _now_.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

Jane rolls her eyes as if to say “stupid, stubborn alpha,” and gestures him inside. “Let me at least give you a gown. I don't want you to come complaining to me when you catch a cold.”

Dean agrees with and thanks her; it seems like a good idea. Not because he doesn't want to get sick, but because he wants to lie down with Cas, to hold him, if his omega lets him. Jane hands him a gown as Dean enters and looks at the fallen angel, who's not meeting his eyes. The nurse heads into the back room, giving them privacy.

Cas stares at him warily as he strips out of the wet fabric.

“While I appreciate the strip show, I'm really not in the mood.”

And yeah, Dean supposes he has every right to be cranky. When the hospital gown is on Dean approaches the bed cautiously.

“How are you feeling?”

Castiel glares at him, but it's half-hearted. “How do you _think_ I'm feeling?”

“I figured as much,” the alpha says. “How much of that has to do with me?”

His mate sighs, looking like he has no fight left in him. “Not as much anymore.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

Castiel doesn't answer but he slides over and rolls onto his side, back facing Dean, who climbs in behind him, wrapping the omega up in his arms.

“I'm really sorry, Cas.” He's had a lot of time to think, freezing out his punishment out in the storm, and about three minutes in Dean realized what a dick he had been.

“For what, oh fearless leader?”

Dean hates when his mate calls him that, and Cas knows it.

“For being an insensitive asshole.”

“Yes, that is what you were.” He doesn't immediately forgive him, but he doesn't sound angry anymore. Just defeated. Dean sees a bottle of whiskey on the table next to the bed, which may have something to do with his calmer disposition.

The alpha doesn't know what else to say, so he holds Cas tighter, feeling the tremors in his omega's muscles. If the smell of his pain is overwhelming and making Dean feel like drinking half a bottle of hunter's helper, he can't imagine the grief his mate is experiencing.

“I never thought I could miss something I didn't even know I had,” Castiel says sadly. “Something I never even wanted."

“Do you now?” Dean asks, already knowing the answer.

“I do. But Dean, you were right. We can't bring a child into this life. It would be cruel."

Maybe, just _maybe_ if Dean had said yes to Michael, put an end to Lucifer, Cas would have been able to have a normal life. He wouldn't loyally follow a sad excuse for a leader, wouldn't turn into a broken shell of what he once was. He could have a husband, or a wife, and raise happy, healthy children. He wouldn't be popping pills and snorting coke or lost in a haze of self-loathing and depression. The omega could be _happy_. But Dean fucked that dream up to shit because he couldn't kill his brother. His brother who is most likely burnt out of existence, so what good did saying no do? All his selfish decision brought was the death of millions by a demonic virus and a shattered fallen angel.

“How about I make you a deal?” the alpha asks, wanting desperately to give hope to his mate.

“And what deal would that be?” Castiel responds skeptically.

“When this is all over, if— _when_ we defeat Lucifer, we'll try for a baby.”

The omega's scent of despair lightens just a little bit at that.

“You mean that?”

Dean kisses the back of his neck, still damp with sweat. “Yeah, Cas. I do.”


	8. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 4/6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter depicts an unhealthy sex scene with orgasm denial as a form of punishment

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since that awful night. And two weeks since Dean has knotted him. The only thing more crushing than losing the life that was inside of him is the distance it's putting between Cas and his mate.

The alpha has been going on an increasing amount of missions and supply runs, abandoning Cas to all of the chemicals he's been putting into his body more frequently than ever. Even more than when he lost his wings. He gets a phantom ache at the thought.

Dean used to try to get him clean, before he realized that the drugs and the booze and the sex were what kept him going when the reality of what was happening had him spiraling in and out of suicidal ideation, wishing his heart would give out or he would be killed by a croat or smote by Lucifer. He lost his family, his grace, and Dean, and with those his will to live.

And now he feels like he's losing them all over again. He barely smells his mate on himself anymore when it used to cling to him like heavy cologne. Cas is probably driving him away with the thick cloud of his depression that's slowly suffocating them both.

Dean is with him now, though, three fingers deep and massaging the omega's prostate.

“Fuck me,” Cas groans for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few days.

The alpha slows his ministrations and rests a sweaty forehead on the back of Castiel's neck. “I'm sorry, Cas. I can't.”

“And why the hell not?” Castiel rolls onto his back and his mate slides his fingers out. “I'm on a stronger birth control. The chances of me getting knocked up again are slim to none.”

It's the same argument they've been having every time Dean stays in the cabin long enough to be intimate with him. Like always, Dean stays silent. And then it all dawns on Cas.

“You think I'm trying to get pregnant again.”

His mate doesn't deny it, just crosses an arm over his face as if that could shut out this conversation. The frustration that's been building inside of Cas burns up into pure anger.

“You asshole,” he snaps. “Do you think that if I were trying to conceive a child I would be popping pills and downing whiskey all day? That's how I killed the first one.”

Dean moves his arm and stares at his mate with wide eyes. “Jesus, Cas, you think you—that wasn't your fault.”

The omega ignores him and presses forward. “And what, you think I've been throwing out the birth control or something?”

“I didn't—” Dean flounders, looking thoroughly out of his element. “It's just that you were so broken up about the miscarriage. You told me that now you want a baby.”

Cas takes a moment to picture what they would have had, had the world not been ending. His anger is chipped away just a little bit by sadness.

“I've learned the hard way that we can't always get what we want, especially during a fucking apocalypse.”

The omega might be imagining it, but he thinks he sees Dean's eyes get a little glossy. “Cas, I'm sorry.”

But it's not okay, not yet.

A petty part of Cas wants to put Dean through a little bit of what he's been going though: not getting what he needs sexually from his mate. Not getting their closeness they used to share so well.

He reaches between his legs and collects slick on his hand, wrapping it around Dean's cock and coaxing it back to hardness.

“Cas, what are you—”

“Shh,” the omega whispers, thumbing his mate's slit and making him arch off the bed. He takes a few minutes to do everything that drives Dean crazy, practiced flicks of his wrist, sucking marks over the scar tissue of Castiel's claiming bites where his neck is most sensitive. Dean starts thrusting up into his hand, moaning and chanting Cas' name the whole time.

“Cas, baby, I'm sorry. Let me knot you, please.”

The omega stills his hand and removes from Dean's erection completely. The sound of his mate begging to take him, to give him what he's been wanting for two weeks, is turning him on like nothing else, but he's got a plan and he's sticking to it.

“No,” he says firmly. Dean's eyes fly open.

“What?”

“You don't get to knot me.” Cas climbs across Dean to get to the nightstand, making sure to drag his cock over his alpha's in the process. He grabs a knotted vibrator from the drawer and settles back onto his side of the bed. “You don't get to come at all.”

“Cas.” His mate's eyes darken and pain flashes across his features but he doesn't argue. He squirms, though, when Castiel pushes the toy in and turns on the vibrator, letting out his most obscene moan. It slides in easily enough after Dean's skilled fingers worked him open.

“Fuck,” Cas groans, clenching around the device experimentally. It feels good, sure, but on a shallow, cold level. The plastic is nothing compared to the flesh of Dean's cock. He feels like he's dying with the need to be filled up by his mate, who he keeps his eyes trained on, as painful as it is. Dean's pupils are blown wide with lust and he's panting, watching the fake knot as Cas slowly, so slowly, fucks himself with it. The alpha reaches down and palms his dick, but Castiel bats away his hand with a heated, “No.”

“Please, Cas.”

“We can't risk you—” The omega is cut off with a gasp as the vibrator hits his prostate. “We can't risk you falling prey to my ulterior motives.” The words feel so harsh on his tongue, and the devastated look on his mate's face tells him he hit his mark. Cas should feel better about that—he's so _angry_ —but it just makes him feel hollow.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll tell it to you a million times if I have to. You don't want me to come, fine. At least let me touch you, get my mouth on your cock, my tongue inside you, anything. I want to make you feel good.”

Cas cries out, not from the toy but from the filth falling from Dean's lips. He doesn't give anything away, though, choosing to run his fingers gently over his nipples, biting his lip hard as his alpha fists the sheets and makes restrained little thrusts into nothing.

“I don't need your mouth, or your fingers, or your knot,” Castiel spits out, but he's lying. He's aching for his mate and he wants to let Dean come if only for the selfish reason that it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.

He looks away from the alpha's eyes and down to the rest of his body; he's flushed from face to chest to swollen cock, precome leaking from the tip. Cas focuses on that, imagines the unique taste of it on his tongue as he thrusts the toy deeper and harder, nailing his prostate each time. The fake knot keeps catching on his rim, making it difficult to remain in control. The pressure of his orgasm his building hot and low inside him and he knows he won't last much longer.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas moans accidentally, and it's the way that his mate's breath hitches and his fingers dig themselves further into the sheets and a pearl of precome drips from the tip of his cock that pushes the omega over the edge. He screws his eyes shut and arches off of the bed, pushing the button at the base of the vibrator that expands the knot as waves of pleasure are wrenched from his body. His vision whites out and when it passes he turns off the vibration setting and catches his breath. He's full to the brim but he feels so empty. Orgasms are always followed by the warmth of his mate's body.

Cas looks over to Dean. The alpha is trembling and his chest is heaving and there are ropes of come across his stomach. His hands are still gripping the sheets. The realization that Dean came untouched just from watching Cas fuck himself with a toy is enough to send a weak pulse of come out of his spent cock.

Dean's eyes widen and his face reddens as he looks down at the mess on his stomach, as if he hadn't even noticed. “Shit, Cas, I didn't mean to—”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel says, feigning annoyance. He's not so much disappointed that his mate came as he is that he missed the sight of him coming completely undone without even a hand on him.

Dean doesn't respond, just gets up out of bed and Cas thinks that this is it, he's pushed him him too far, he's not coming back to their bed tonight, maybe ever. He clumsily shakes two Ambien out of an orange bottle and takes a few swigs of hunter's helper, hoping he'll be asleep or unconscious before he has to hear Dean's boots thudding out the front door. Instead, he hears the sound of bare feet padding back to him and when he opens his eyes there's his mate, not in his shoes and jacket but in boxers, holding a wet towel that he then uses to wipe off Cas. He looks hurt and ashamed, emotions that are definitely mirrored by Cas, but not angry. Not on the verge of saying “screw it” and finding someone less fucked-up than the omega he tied himself to.

When Dean is finished cleaning Cas he tosses the cloth to the floor and rolls on his side, back to Cas, and turns out the light.

The omega pulls the hard plastic toy out from his body and throws it to the floor in disgust. His volatile human emotions are rearing their ugly heads as Cas recounts the past hour. The deceit his mate thought Castiel was capable of and the cruelty they both found out Castiel was capable of. Dean had apologized several times and Cas had assumed it was just about sex, but the way he hadn't touched himself and the way he cared for Cas afterward proved him wrong. Now _he_ wants to apologize, to whisper “I'm sorry” over and over into his alpha's hair as he holds and is held. But something just became broken between the two of them and Cas needs to sort things through when he doesn't feel flayed and raw and as if he would sob instead of speak if he were to open his mouth. So he keeps his body away from the warmth and comfort of Dean's but reaches a hand out into the dark until it finds his mate's bicep, gripping the brand he had, as a mighty celestial being, burned into the Righteous Man's flesh as he pulled him out of the pit. Castiel's hand is so human and insignificant now, but Dean sighs and lays one of his own over it, and for now, it's enough.


	9. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 5/6

They should have talked about things. Dean should have put the supply run on hold, or sent the group on without him so that he and Cas could try to mend the painful rift that was torn between them.

He woke up this morning cold, with just the warmth of his mate's hand on his shoulder, right over the handprint. He knew Cas hadn't slept at all because a sleeping Cas always turned into a clingy octopus during the night, whether they went to bed on good terms or not.

The omega's eyes were bloodshot when he told Dean he was coming on the mission with him—red from crying or lack of sleep or drugs, or worse, a combination of the three. Cas was in no state to leave camp and Dean should have stayed with him, tried to fix things. He should have been there to make sure his mate didn't do anything self-destructive. But then, Dean was never any good at protecting Cas from himself.

So he kissed the omega on the forehead and said, “No. Stay here. I'll be back tonight,” and went off to play hero like the absolute coward that he is.

So it's terrifying but sadly not surprising to know that Cas got himself into some kind of trouble in the twelve hours Dean was gone for. He has no idea what happened or how bad it is; Chuck had simply rushed to Dean and said, “You need to get to your cabin, now,” and the alpha was off, all sorts of horrifying scenarios, mostly involving overdose or alcohol poisoning or ways Cas could have tried or succeed to kill himself. He didn't expect anything close to what awaited him in their cabin.

There's a salt line in front of their door and on the window sills and blood all over the walls (too much, way too much), warding sigils against demons and angels and who knows what the fuck else, there's so many of them. A ring of salt surrounds the bed, where Cas is kneeling, a bandage wrapped around his forearm, clutching Risa, who is patting his back awkwardly. She looks confused and terrified and Dean is right there with her. The scent of distress and anxiety is so thick that the alpha could cut it with a knife.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks as he crosses the salt circle and approaches the bed.

Risa mutters, “Oh, thank God,” and then Cas is grabbing Dean and yanking him onto the bed by his jacket collar. Risa takes the opportunity to try to sneak away, but the omega reaches out and grabs her ankle.

“It's not safe!”

Dean looks at her questioningly. If there were any real danger she would be in full-on alpha mode, not staring back at Dean with wide, nervous eyes.

“Cas, let her go.” He puts enough authority into his voice that his mate lets go of Risa's ankle. She high-tails it to the door, sending Cas into a panic. He grabs a box of salt and reinforces the circle that Risa had run through.

“Cas, what the fuck is going on?”

The omega curls in on himself, tangling his fingers in his hair and pulling. Dean grabs his hands and pulls them away, holding them in his own.

“Calm down. Tell me what's happening.”

Cas pulls his mate close and buries his face in his shirt. “I'm being punished,” he says, sounding more shattered than Dean has ever heard him, save for the night his brothers and sisters gave earth the finger and flew back to Heaven.

“How? And what's with all the warding?”

“Demons,” Cas gasps between hurried breaths. “The camp is possessed.”

Dean's head is spinning, protective instincts weighing him down, grounding him. None of this is making sense.

“Why would demons be punishing you?” Sure, they've pissed off a lot of demons, but they wouldn't be able to waltz right past all of the guards and wardings.

“God sent them.”

That makes even less sense. “God doesn't send demons to do his dirty work.”

“He did... because my family is no longer here to carry out his orders.”

The smell of Cas' fear is cloying and laced with the scents of weed and alcohol. There's more to it, though. Dean looks at the bottles of pills and bags of powder littering their bed.

“What did you take?”

The omega leans back and shakes his head, eyes skittering and unfocused. “I don't—it doesn't matter. It opened my eyes, Dean. I can see their true faces again.” His gaze travels over Dean's shoulder to the window.

The alpha grips his mate's chin and tries to get his eyes on him. “Look at me, Cas. There's no demons out there. You're having a really bad trip. Let me get you something to drink.”

“I have—” the fallen angel starts, reaching behind himself and grabbing a bottle of whiskey off of the bed. Dean pulls it away before Cas can uncap it.

“No way in hell am I letting you put more shit into your body right now.” He plans on going to the mess hall to get Gatorade, normally saved for the children and the sick, but Dean has no idea when Cas last drank something less than eighty proof.

“You can't leave the circle,” the omega says, gripping Dean's arms.

The alpha feels and smells his frustration building. “Do you realize how crazy you sound right now?” He mentally kicks himself the moment Cas lets go and looks down at his hands.

“Crazy. That's what they're saying.”

“Shit, Cas. They're not—that's not true.” Dean's frustration crumbles away into ruins, leaving an even darker feeling. Even his mate's scent has changed. His anxiety is now clouded with such anguish that tells Dean he was lucky to have someone step in before Cas did something more drastic to harm himself.

“Crazy. Worthless. Murderer.”

The last word sends Dean reeling. He knew they needed to talk about the guilt Cas was feeling. But he put it off, too scared of all the potent emotions such a conversation would carry, and now they're doing it now, with Cas high on fuck knows what and hallucinating. And crying now, Jesus.

The omega speaks again before Dean has a chance to get a grip and say something, anything, to make this better.

“I'm an unfit mate. A mess. I'm not worth it. You'll find someone better, it's just a matter of time.”

And that... that hurts him in places he didn't know existed until now. Dean Winchester, crowned king of abandonment issues, never thought of Cas as insecure. The problems are all building up now and he has no idea which one to try to tackle first. He grabs his mate's face, trying to wipe away some of the tears, and kisses him. He pours as much affection as he can into it and when Dean pulls away, Cas touches his lips in confusion, as if he expected to be left and forgotten at his confession. The alpha doesn't let go of his face.

“We've been through a lot of shit, Cas. But I have never, ever doubted our bond.”

Cas shakes his head, trying to pull away.

“And you're not any more of a murderer than I am. I torture demons, Cas.”

“You're wrong,” the omega says, wrenching Dean's hands away. “We created life and I destroyed it.” He's angry, but Dean knows it's directed inwards. “My body is uninhabitable because I made it that way. I killed an innocent soul and now God is punishing me for it.”

The alpha pushes the damp hair out of Cas' face, feeling a crushing feeling in his chest for his mate. “You didn't know. And we're not even sure what happened. Healthy, sober and clean people have miscarriages all the time. It sucks, but it just happens.”

“I should have known. I should have sensed it somehow, with my grace...”

Castiel's breathing quickens and Dean touches two fingers to the pulse point on his neck. The omega's heart is hammering.

“Deep breaths, baby. Come on. Do some of that yoga breathing shit you make me do. Let me grab you a bottle of water.” Dean pulls Ruby's knife out of his holster and shows it to Cas. “Just to the kitchen. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

The omega wraps himself in a blanket and nods his head. “Okay.”

Dean gets up slowly, afraid to startle his mate, and goes to get him a drink. Cas tenses as he walks away, then relaxes just a little bit when he crosses back into the salt circle.

“They won't stop,” Cas says as Dean pushes the water bottle into his hand. “Not until they get me. I should let them.”

“That's enough,” the alpha says sternly. He can't have Cas giving up, not after all they've been through. Fighting, dying, mating. “Drink.”

Castiel does as he's told, downing nearly half the bottle before screwing the cap back on and setting it on the bed.

“Okay, good. Why don't we lie down, get some rest.”

“I don't think I can,” Cas tells him, fidgeting and looking around nervously.

Dean isn't sure if it's a good idea or not but he digs through their nightstand drawer until he finds a bottle of sleeping pills. It seems like Cas took mostly uppers and whatever hallucinogenic drug he got his hands on, so a pill or two shouldn't do much damage.

“Take these, okay?”

The omega eyes them warily. “I don't want to fall asleep. What if the demons get in?”

Dean doesn't even bother explaining again that the camp is full of completely hellspawn-free humans, some of them more or less respectable, but still alone in their meatsuits. He gestures around the room. “Look at all of this warding. Nothing supernatural is getting through that door.”

Cas nods his head in a jerking motion and takes the pills dry, then climbs underneath the covers. Dean follows, pulling his mate against his chest.

It takes about a half hour for the omega's heartbeat to slow to a more normal level and his muscles to slightly loosen. Dean stays awake until he knows Cas is asleep before succumbing to fatigue himself, inhaling the comforting smell of his mate's more neutral, sweet scent.


	10. Part 5: Loss - Chapter 6/6

The stream always makes Cas feel better, so as soon as they woke up this morning Dean suggested he go out and bathe in the cool water. The omega woke up with one hell of a hangover, understandably. He wouldn’t talk about the breakdown or what he took, just barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. After tense silence and a forced Gatorade binge session, Castiel agreed that the stream might help.

Dean didn’t make an offer to go with him and his mate didn’t ask. The alpha needed time, time to set up something he should have provided for Cas a long time ago.

The quality of blankets and pillows is nowhere good enough for a suitable nest, but he has to work with what he’s got which is a reserve of looted linens, some of which have children's cartoon characters on them, and a pile of Cas’ old blankets and pillows from his cabin, ones that didn’t reek of past lovers.

Dean piles the pillows and blankets in a cozy protective circle, fluffing them and rearranging them obsessively until it somewhat resembles a bonding nest.

He knows he doesn’t have much time because Cas was looking at his mate all paranoid like Dean was some sketchy asshole who was pushing him out so Dean could sneak out and find someone to fool around with for an hour or so. The omega is so insecure right now, that may have been what he was thinking. He runs and grabs a bottle of wine from the makeshift chapel cabin that nobody really uses anymore because hope and faith are things of the past now.

Dean is just finishing pouring the glasses when Cas comes through the front door, hair dripping and eyes sad but looking a little more alert than earlier. It takes him a moment to look around before he notices the nest. The omega’s eyes widen just a little bit and his lips part.

“Dean... is that-?”

Dean brings over their glasses and gestures for his mate to sit down on the bed.

“I’m sorry, I should have done this a long time ago. I haven’t been a good mate, I’m supposed to provide-”

Castiel puts his hand up to silence Dean. “Stop. You have a lot on your plate, Dean. You’re taking care of a hundred people, you risk your life time and time again for people who don’t even appreciate you.”

They sit down together and Dean hands Cas his glass of wine.

“You should come first. I’ve made mistakes, I haven’t been here for you; I know that now. I threw you aside when you fell, too absorbed in Sam’s betrayal. I watched you get addicted to drugs, be used...”

Cas tips his drink back and downs it in a few gulps, then sets it on the bedside table. “Don’t blame yourself for my failures.” He looks down away from Dean and starts picking at the bandage on his arm where he sliced it open to ward the cabin with sigils. It’s still hard to look at the walls and windows.

“Failures? Cas, the angels left you. You had everything taken away from you and you didn’t know how to cope. All you had was a shitty excuse for a friend who was so full of hatred and alcohol that he couldn’t see past the barrel of his gun.”

“I must be such a disappointment,” the omega says, taking his mate’s wine and chugging it down. “I used to be righteous, powerful. I could heal you effortlessly, I could be anywhere in a heartbeat. I could smite demons. I was light. Power.”

“That Cas was handy, yes, but I don’t care. I’m with you for who you are now, a-”

“Depressed, hopeless, useless junkie who took the life of a baby with his own self-indulgence.”

Dean feels a sharp, dark stabbing in his chest, a longing to comfort, to reassure, but the look on Cas’ face tells him that nothing he can say or do will make a difference.

“I appreciate this, Dean,” the omega says, gesturing around the bed. “I really do. But I don’t deserve it. Don’t waste your time and effort trying to convince me that you want to be with me.”

Dean's breath hitches and he reaches out for Cas’ face to kiss him but his mate pulls away.

“But I do, Cas.”

He’s terrified of what’s coming next, what his mate will do if he doesn’t believe him. Something drastic and impulsive.

“No, you don’t. You pity me. You think you owe me a debt, for pulling you out of Hell, for staying on earth with you, but you don’t.”

Cas stands up and Dean’s head spins, feeling like he drank the whole bottle of wine when he never even got a sip. He’s clouded with his mate’s despair. And then Cas walks to the closet and pulls out his worn-out duffel bag.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean snaps. He regrets his harsh tone immediately; if he is going to convince his mate to stay, he can’t make it seem like the omega’s delusions are true.

Cas looks at him, face stone-cold, and starts gathering his meager belongings.

“What’s best for us. I’m leaving so you don’t have to.”

Dean throws himself off the bed and grabs Cas, causing him to drop the bottle of pills he was pulling off the nightstand.

“This is bullshit, Cas. I don’t pity you, I don’t feel indebted to you, I… I love you, and I know I never say it, but it’s true.”

Cas shakes his head and shrugs Dean off and the alpha feels what’s left of his shambled life dissolving. The one person he never thought would leave him is joining all of the others.

“You’ll find someone better, Dean. Someone who is whole enough to provide for you.”

“Look around, Cas! Everybody here is broken!”

The omega doesn’t physically show any emotional reaction, but his heavy scent of depression betrays him.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says as he reaches under the bed where he keeps his bong and a box of assorted hallucinogens. “But you’ll find someone better. And I don’t want you to have to face the guilt of choosing them over me.”

Cas picks up some clothes off of the floor and zips up his duffel. The grinding sound of the old metal sends a grim sense of finality to Dean and he fights back tears.

“I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but you’re making a huge mistake.”

Cas walks up to Dean, expression blank, eyes dry, and gives him a brief kiss.

“No. I’m not.”

The alpha’s tears fall now as his mate backs away and turns the front door knob.

“Cas.” Dean's voice breaks and he feels embarrassed by his composure while Cas remains outwardly apathetic.

“I’ll be in my cabin. I’ll still come on missions if you’ll have me. I’ll help where I can.” He looks back at Dean and the alpha sees just a fracture of pain in his expression.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

And then the door closes and Dean goes to the first bottle of alcohol he can find.


	11. Part 6: Broken - Chapter 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks after Cas leaves Dean, he goes into heat.

Dean has spent the last two weeks in a drunken haze. He’s even resorted to some painkillers he found in their—in _his—_ bathroom, for when it gets really bad. Which is pretty often.

Castiel hasn’t broken their mating bond yet. Dean doesn’t know why; it’s killing him, flaring up through his entire body whenever he sees the omega and burning him up from the inside out anytime someone enters Cas’ re-claimed cabin.

He doesn’t smell like sex when Dean is close enough to him, just weed and alcohol and all of his dark emotions, but Dean is consumed with jealousy at all of the time Cas is spending with people who aren’t him. He knows the kind of people who are spending hours in there. The cokeheads, the heroin addicts. And he knows Cas is indulging in more than his fair share; he’s always in a haze or manic and on the last two missions he’s been on he’s acted reckless, careless, like he wants to die. Dean is haunted by the horrible thought that maybe he does.

Which makes Dean a danger on their missions because he’s always getting distracted, searching for his former lover, feeling the constricting protectiveness through their bond and wishing he could just let go of Cas and sever it himself, but he can’t. He isn’t giving up hope, not yet.

Α|Ω

Dean is taking his hourly walk around the cabins, completely _not_ stalking Cas, when he smells it. The warm, sweet, irresistible scent of Castiel. In heat.

He’s pissed at Cas, he resents him, but a mated omega going through a heat without their alpha can be agonizing. Dean can’t let Cas go through that.

As he approaches he nearly collides with an alpha headed in the same direction, lust radiating off of him in waves. Dean stares directly into his eyes and snarls and the other man retreats quickly.

Dean breathes in a shaky breath as he reaches the beaded curtain in the doorway, cock pressing hard against his fly and he wants nothing more than to be in the wet heat of his omega.

He hears moans coming from inside, sounds of discomfort and barely satisfying pleasure, and then his name groaned out. The alpha was going to knock, to be civil and ask to come in, but a primal urge takes over him and he knocks the beads out of his way and rushes inside.

Cas is lying on his back on his bed, flushed and sweaty and shaky, fucking himself with a knotted dildo. His eyes fly open and he inhales deeply, scenting the alpha, coming all over his stomach. The sight makes Dean’s dick throb and he moves closer, but Castiel’s briefly satiated expression turns cold.

“You can’t just barge in here like you own the place.”

The alpha is far too aroused to be ashamed and watches as Cas pulls the slick toy out of himself and hops off the bed, storming towards him, unable to walk straight. It could be the heat, or drugs, or both. The closer he gets, the more Dean can tell he’s in bad condition.

“You’re suffering, Cas.” He lifts a hand to the omega’s forehead and keeps it there for a moment until he former lover flinches away. “You’re burning up, you have tremors, and you smell like vomit.”

“I can handle it.”

Dean feels frustration rise at Castiel’s stubbornness, at the harsh way he is treating the person whose heart he just broke.

“This would be a lot easier for you if you would just break the damn bond,” he spits out, and Cas recoils.

“Do you want me to?”

Dean sees that Cas is hard again and he moves instinctively moves closer until he can feel the omega’s fever radiating through his clothes, the scent tantalizing. The bond between them is singing, taunting him, making him emotional.

“Of course not. But if you’re going to leave me, be a fucking man and finish the job.”

Cas looks up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused, and reaches his shaky hands up to Dean’s jacket collar, clenching hard. The alpha wonders what he’s taken. His temper simmers down a little at the feeling of him trembling, the smell of his sweat and desperation.

“You’re a mess, baby. Let me help you.”

Castiel’s demeanor changes in a flash and he pushes Dean away.

“Then break the bond yourself.”

Cas turns around and starts walking toward the bed when Dean comes up behind him and grabs his arms hard, pressing himself against the omega’s back and aching as he feels the warm slick soaking through the front of his jeans. Castiel whines and grinds back against him.

“Not gonna happen,” Dean snarls, pushing Cas toward the bed.

“Then do something you’re good at and fuck me, I’m sure you’ve had lots of practice since we’ve been apart.”

Dean knows Cas is just trying to get under his skin, to push him away and make Dean lean toward his twisted belief that the omega isn’t good enough for Dean. He knows he doesn’t mean it, but it still infuriates him. He’s trying to provide for the person who abandoned him but still but won’t cut that last cord of hope, and he’s being treated like some asshole who sleeps around just weeks after being left by his mate. He doesn’t want anyone else, he wants _Cas_ , and he’s going to have him.

He makes quick work of undressing himself as the omega lies down on his stomach on the bed, grasping at the sheets and grinding down into the mattress.

As soon as Dean is undressed he’s on top of Cas, sliding into his slick entrance with a hard thrust and pinning his hands over his head roughly.

It’s been a month since he’s been inside his former mate, he’s been yearning for so long. The last time they had sex, before the miscarriage, it was gentle, passionate; now it’s rough and tense and Dean is so full of anger and hurt as he thrusts in and out of the omega sharply. He’s not hurting him, Dean would never hurt him, it’s just all he can offer right now, and probably all that Cas would accept.

“Dean, alpha,” Castiel moans, and Dean wonders if he’s said anyone else’s name like that since he left. The thought makes him sick and he switches Cas’ right hand over so that he’s holding both wrists in his left and uses his right hand to grip Cas’ hair and lift his face off the pillow to his own.

“Have you been with anyone else since me?”

The omega doesn’t respond, just moans loudly when the alpha nails his prostate.

“Answer me,” Dean growls.

Cas glares at him, a mix of anger and lust at his dominance, then looks away. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

Dean slows down the movement of his hips, releasing Cas’ hair and letting his head fall back down into the pillow because he can’t look Cas in the eyes when he speaks next.

“Tell me you love me.”

Dean buries his face in the omega’s damp hair, smells the cocktail of sadness, anger, arousal, and then a sweet scent of something more gentle. He feels pathetic for asking that of Cas but he’s desperate.

“Tell me you love me, Cas,” he demands as he picks up his pace again, feeling the heat building in his groin, telling him he’s close.

“Dean,” the omega says weakly, and then he sniffles.

“Say it, goddamnit!” the alpha yells. “I need to hear it.”

“I love you,” Cas chokes out and Dean comes hard, feeling his omega shudder as he follows him. Hearing the words hurt him a lot more than it did comfort him, but he’s glad Cas told him.

Dean collapses on top of him, kissing the back of his mate’s head while Cas whispers, “I love you, I love you,” over and over. He stops after a minute or so and reaches for a bottle of pills on the nightstand. It’s Vicodin.

“Cas, don’t.”

The omega ignores him and shakes out two pills and dry swallows them.

“What else have you taken today?”

Castiel shrugs nonchalantly. “I shot up a few hours ago.”

Dean grabs Cas by the shoulders and jostles him. “Damnit Cas, are you trying to stop your fucking heart?”

Dean’s knot has gone down so he pulls out and rolls Cas over onto his back to face him.

“No, but I can’t say I would particularly care if I did.”

Dean is drowning in sorrow and hopelessness and wants nothing more in the world than to help Cas, but he has no idea how.

“Do you have any idea what that would do to me?”

“Yes. It would give you one less thing to worry about.”

Dean’s vision clouds and he punches the pillow just an inch from Cas’ head, concerned by his delayed flinch.

“Tell me what to do, Cas. This is killing me.”

“Stay away from me. Give up. Or I’ll keep taking the life from you until there’s nothing left. And you have so much to give. I just don’t have the capacity to take it.”

Dean’s heart sinks, his stomach sinks, his whole insides feel like they’re about to fall out. “What do you mean by that?”

The omega sighs and his eyes flutter closed. “Angels weren’t programmed to deal with human emotions. Even the littlest ones scream at me, consume me.”

“Then let me _help_ you. I need you, I’ve always needed you.”

Cas looks up at the headboard and tears well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

And then something snaps inside of him like a rubber band breaking, and Dean’s heart is flooded with darkness, an empty gray isolation. Cas broke the bond.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” Castiel sobs as Dean pushes off of the bed and grabs his clothes.

“You know what made you different from the rest of your dickhead family? You had a heart.”

Cas stares at him as he gets dressed, audibly crying, but Dean refuses to look at him. He struggles to put his clothes on (he’s pretty sure his shirt is on backward and his boxers are inside-out) and then storms through the doorway. He gets tangled in the strings of beads and tears down the curtain in frustration, stomping on it for good measure.

He almost makes it to his cabin before collapsing to his knees, breaking down like he hadn’t since he found out Sam became Lucifer’s meatsuit. People are probably staring at him, their strong, fearless leader crying in the dirt, but Dean can’t see any of them. He doesn’t care.

He’s not sure how much time passes before a small but strong frame lifts him up—an alpha, Risa—and drags him into his cabin.

She dumps him onto his bed and hands him a bottle of cheap whiskey.

“Pull yourself together, you’re freaking everyone out,” she scolds, crossing her arms.

Dean stares at the bottle and considers telling her, “Fuck it, you take over,” because she’s stronger than he is, and he’s getting so tired, but when he looks up Risa is gone.

He gazes around his surroundings wearily, at the piles of pillows and blankets that make up the nest he never disassembled and he sees red. He starts frantically grabbing the linens and shredding them with his bare hands and when they’re torn up and lying dirty on the floor he grabs Ruby’s knife and begins stabbing into the pillows, sending feathers everywhere. When his bed is messy but basically back to normal he chugs some whiskey and lies down, instantly regretting his actions.

He should have kept the blankets and pillows that didn’t smell like Cas.


	12. Part 7: Hope - Chapter 1/?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp Chitaqua gets an SOS from a nearby hunter-run survivor sanctuary. Demon-led croats are on their way, the destructive military not far behind. Cas is going through severe drug withdrawal and is unfit to fight so Dean refuses to let him come on the mission.
> 
> The stubborn omega doesn't listen.

3 weeks later

Dean knocks on the door frame of Cas’ cabin. He’s been wandering around camp for about an hour, trying to figure out how to go about this. The dark and jealous side of him kept insisting he bribe an omega girl to leave her scent all over him, maybe leave some lipstick on his neck, but he’s trying to help his former mate, not make him more depressed.

The beaded curtain has been put back up, though several beads and strands were broken off by Dean when the omega broke their mating bond, and Dean feels just a little guilty about that. He thinks Cas made it himself, but he was a bit neglectful toward his friend at the time that it went up.

There’s no answer, so Dean goes inside to investigate. Cas is lying on his bed, pale and sweaty, and doesn’t respond when the alpha calls his name.

Dean panics and runs over to the bed and shakes him, only getting a groan as a reaction.

“Cas!” He desperately slaps the former angel in the face and is relieved when his eyes flutter open.

“Mate,” Cas says groggily.

Dean has no idea how to identify the emotions that assault him at that greeting, so he pushes them all aside and sternly replies, “No.”

The omega furrows his brow and rubs his bloodshot eyes, looking confused. “What are you doing here?”

Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paper bag. “I have some things for you.” He hands the bag to Cas who looks inside skeptically.

“You brought me drugs.” He squints at Dean and tilts his head in a way that hurts Dean because he’s always found the quirk so endearing.

“They’re antidepressants.” Dean ignores Cas’ eye roll. “Take one every day. With _water_. And food. You don’t eat nearly enough.”

“Yes, sir,” the omega says sarcastically, saluting. This actually makes Dean a little happy, seeing some of his friend's old spark back, even if it’s in the form of snarkiness.

Cas shuffles through the bag of pill bottles and pulls out a box. Suboxone. “What’s this for?”

“Drug withdrawal,” Dean states, expecting a firestorm from the fallen angel.

“And why, may I ask, would I be going through drug withdrawal?”

“Because this hard shit you’re taking, that you’re fucking _overdosing_ on, it ends today,” Dean says with alpha authority.

Cas glares and throws the bag aside. “What gives you the right?”

“I’m the ‘fearless leader’ of this shithole, remember? The lives of these people are my responsibility.”

The omega crosses his arms, a classic, “you’re not getting out without a fight” stance.

“Are you going to take everyone else’s, too? It’s only fair.”

Dean honestly hadn’t thought of that. His mind had only really been on Cas. He knows his ex-mate will only fight him harder if he’s a hypocrite about it.

“Yes. You junkies can keep your weed, your painkillers, your fucking Adderall for all I care. But the coke, the meth, the heroin, gone.”

Dean can smell a mix of anger and anxiety, the strengths about equal. Now that their bond is gone he can’t scent Cas’ emotions as easily, but these are powerful ones.

“Now get your crap. That’s an order.”

He watches carefully as Cas stumbles around his cabin like a zombie, looking in drawers and under sheets. When Dean starts shuffling through the omega’s things his ex-mate shoves himself in front of him, grabbing Dean for balance for a moment before wrenching his hands away like he's about to get infected with the croatoan virus.

“You don’t trust me?” he asks, clearly irritated.

“To find everything, in your condition? No.”

“Keep your hands off my stuff,” Cas growls.

Dean raises his hands in surrender and backs up, watching the former angel toss powders, pills, what appears to be crack— _Jesus Christ_ —into a box.

“What about hallucinogens?”

Dean scrubs a hand over his face. He feels like he’s been way too lenient on Cas already, but he doesn’t want to be seen as the enemy and he can’t stand the dark and angry scents that are rolling off of the omega in waves.

“You can keep anything that’s all natural. 'Shrooms, whatever. But give me everything chemical. And I’d better not ever catch you streaking through the camp thinking you’re chasing fairies again.”

“Fairies are real, you know,” Cas says matter-of-factly.

Dean pauses to think for a moment. The omega could be fucking with him, but there really isn’t much that surprises him anymore. “Those ones weren’t.”

“It was funny, though. Even you admitted it.” Castiel says, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Yeah, well, joke's over. Keep packing.” He hates ruining the moment they had going, but he was about to make a flirty comment and being an asshole was the first cover-up that came out of his mouth.

Cas scowls and plops down on the floor clumsily, pulling out the box of the more mind-altering drugs from under his bed. As he sorts through his stash he tosses the harsher drugs, the LSD, the MDMA, the PCP, onto the bed, mostly missing the box he’s giving to Dean, glaring at the alpha the whole time like he wishes he could still smite.

“Come on, stop being such a brat. This is for the best.”

“I told you what’s best for me. For you to leave me alone.” Dean can hear more self-loathing in his voice than resentment toward him.

“I’m responsible for this camp, including you. I’m not here begging for you to come back. But I won’t let you waste away and I certainly won’t let you endanger my soldiers and civilians out there on missions when you’re high out of your mind.”

When Cas is finished with his hallucinogen box he goes to his bedside table and grabs a used syringe and a pack of sterile ones, a huge relief to Dean. He tosses them in the box on the bed and thrusts it at Dean’s chest.

“There you go, fearless leader. That’s all of it.”

The alpha looks at him critically. “You swear?”

Cas puts a hand to his heart. “On my mother’s grave. If I had a mother.” He smirks. “Wanna cavity search me?”

Dean squints at him and backs away. He can usually tell when Cas is lying and it’s usually not to him. He seems genuine.

“I’ll have Jane stop by every so often and check on you.”

“Right,” the omega says with a smile, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “The withdrawal. Can’t wait.”

Dean wants to say something, wants to tell him that he’ll stay and take care of him, but he can’t, so he just walks out the door, throwing back a, “Take your Prozac,” as he leaves.


	13. Part 7: Hope - Chapter 2/?

1 week later

“How’s Cas doing?” Dean asks Jane, just like he does every day.

“He told me to leave you out of it,” the nurse says, just like she does every day. They’re both tired of this but Dean wouldn’t be Dean if he just let it go.

“He’s my responsibility,” the alpha tells her.

“He’s my patient. I’m taking care of him,” she replies, sounding very defensive of Cas.

“You don’t think he’s been taking anything that’s on the list I gave you?”

“No,” Jane says firmly, clearly irritated. “I could perform drug tests on him if you would like to piss him off more. I don’t have enough tests for the others, though. Not that you ever ask about them” she scolds with an attitude she’s never used with him before.

“Watch it,” Dean says with all the alpha authority he can muster without sounding like a complete asshole to the woman who is taking care of about a dozen angry junkies suffering through withdrawal. And Cas is the only one Dean gave Suboxone to.

Jane looks down, pink staining her cheeks. “My apologies.”

Dean is about to apologize himself when Risa rushes into the med cabin.

“We have an S.O.S. from Hope Springs. Demons and croats are on their way. And the military is not far behind.”

“Which military?”

Hope Springs is a hunter-run community made up of mostly military families. It’s exclusive, well protected, and always well provided for.

“The one that blows up buildings first and doesn’t ask questions.”

“Shit.” Dean bangs his fist on the table. When Lucifer took over the world was divided in a way it hadn’t been before. It wasn’t just humans against croats and demons. There were now factions of the military that went rogue, who got paid to take out threats, whether they were guilty or not, tearing apart innocent lives in the process. “How long until they get there?”

“They don’t know about the croats,” Risa says helplessly. “The warning came from a vision; a gifted person there. But I heard the military is about five hours away.”

Damn it. Camp Chitaqua is about four hours away. And they have to rally the team and gather weapons.

“We need all capable hands on deck, ASAP. Meet me in the cafeteria in five.”

Α|Ω

About twenty people show up to the meeting, a few of which Dean requests to stay behind, including a 90-lb teenage girl who’s never held a weapon in her life. And then Cas shows up, pale and sweating with what the alpha assumes is a smudge of vomit on his sleeve.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dean says under his breath. “Risa, you fill them in on what’s going on. Two minutes and then we load up the convoy and go. Chuck is already packing up the salt and holy water.”

“Got it, boss,” Risa says, standing and clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention. She’s really stepped up to her second-in-command role, filling in the spot that has been Cas’ for years.

Dean meets Cas’ eyes as he nears him and sees a look of sheer defiance. This isn’t going to be easy. He grabs the omega by his shoulder and drags him out the door.

“No way in hell are you coming on this mission,” he says sternly.

“I’m a soldier. I was made to be a soldier. I can’t stay back and do nothing.”

“You are in no state to come with.”

Cas gets right up in Dean’s face, anger darkening his cheeks slightly. “I’m fine.” Dean can smell the puke on his breath. He wrinkles his nose.

“And what are you going to do when you run into the croats, huh? Projectile vomit on them?”

“No,” the omega says with frustration. “I’m going to shoot them in the fucking heads.”

Dean laughs and pulls his gun out of his thigh holster. His amusement only increases when Cas’ eyes linger on the belt, then look away quickly. He’s always had a thing for Dean’s thigh holster.

“I’ll tell you what. Shoot that beer bottle,” he tells the fallen angel, pointing at someone’s leftovers at one of the picnic tables. “On the first try. Then you can come.”

Castiel looks at the gun with an expression of uncertainty, followed by a cocky grin. “Easy.”

He grabs the gun and lifts it in his right hand and his whole arm trembles. He uses his left for support but the tremors only get worse. Normally this would be pretty easy for the omega. Cas has always been much better with knives and blades, having used them for centuries, but he adapted to firearms quite well. Dean can tell he’s struggling to hide how challenging this is for him.

“Give up?” Dean asks.

Cas doesn’t even spare him a glance, just takes a deep breath and pulls the trigger on the exhale, just like Dean taught him. The bullet hits a tree about fifteen feet away from the target.

Dean grabs the gun from the confused-looking Cas, who is trying to see where his shot landed.

“That tree,” the alpha tells him, pointing it out. “The one where the teenagers used to carve their initials in hearts. I think you just broke up Maggie and Jason.”

“They’re probably dead now anyways,” Cas says grimly. The couple left two years ago, joining the military.

“You will be too if you go out fighting in your condition. And with that aim, you’ll probably take out a few civilians with you.”

“I can be useful in other ways,” Cas pleads.

“You’re staying here. End of conversation.” Dean pats the omega awkwardly on the bicep and makes his way to the vehicles to help load up weapons, looking back once and seeing the enraged glare, Cas appearing as intimidating as one can while being several pounds underweight and suffering from severe drug withdrawal.

His ex-mate watches him for a minute as everyone prepares for the brutal battle ahead, but by the time Dean gets in his Jeep and starts the engine the omega is nowhere to be seen.


	14. Part 7: Hope - Chapter 3/?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: off-screen past major character death (not major in this series), minor character suicide, and Dean hitting Cas.

Hope Springs is a bloodbath when Dean and the other Camp Chitaqua residents arrive. The sanctuary’s normal border patrol routines, like vehicle and body searches, are bypassed due to the urgency of the situation. The hunters can barely hear each other over the gunfire and anguished screams. Thankfully, the residents had an advanced warning and there seem to be only hunters out facing the croats.

Dean and his team pull off to the side into a small empty lot and start unpacking quickly. Although most of the fighting is at least a hundred feet away from them, they’ve attracted the attention of some croats already.

A giant of a hunter, Donovan, approaches Dean. He fires a shot right over Dean’s shoulder as he greets him.

“Thanks for coming, Winchester,” the hunter tells him. “Never seen so many organized croats in my life. I’m talking hundreds.”

There are no emotional scents from the alpha, not even his neutral alpha smell. Camp Chitaqua uses off-brand scent suppressants on missions on the rare occasion that they are available (like this time, fortunately), but Hope Springs always has a high-quality supply.

“How many demons?” Dean asks, shooting an oncoming croat dead in the forehead.

“Two, from what we can tell,” comes a familiar voice behind him. Dean turns around and takes a quick moment to give Ellen Harvelle the warmest hug that time allows. “One is in a female vessel. Pretty, with long, dark, wavy hair. The other is a bit portly, with a British accent from what I could hear. He’s got red eyes.”

Dean groans internally. This is not a good sign.

“Damn it. You know ‘em, don’t you?” Ellen asks.

“I think the woman is Meg. Bad news. Got a big grudge against me.” He pauses as Ellen fires a few shots towards the street. Dean’s team has started shooting as well, while still scurrying to unpack. “The male demon is Crowley. From what little time I’ve spent with him, he seems to be very ‘anti-Lucifer.’ It makes no sense that they would be working together.”

“That’s the thing,” Donovan says. “They’re not. Every time they run into each other they’re at each other’s throats, each one’s Hellhounds fighting the other team.”

“Hellhounds?” Dean hopes the scents of dread and terror don’t overpower the layers of shitty blockers he applied. He’s sure the blood draining from his face is noticeable, though.

“Don’t worry, they only seem to be attacking each other, the demons, and some of them–” Ellen is cut off when Risa calls Dean’s name urgently. Dean holds up his hand to signal her to wait, but she ignores him.

“ _Dean!_ ”

“What?” Dean snaps at his fellow alpha.

“We have a problem.” Risa pulls a grumpy-looking Cas out from behind her truck. “I found him hiding in the back in a sleeping bag.”

Any blood that had drained from Dean’s face at the mention of the Hellhounds is quickly replaced as he storms toward his ex-mate.

“You idiot,” Dean growls, back-handing Cas, careful not to break any skin. The omega charges forward but Dean stops him with a hand to the throat. Cas’ eyes widen and Dean moves his hand into a less threatening position, tightly gripping the back of his neck. Dean drags him like a dog toward Ellen and Donovan.

“Get him to one of your bunkers or safe houses,” he orders Donovan. Dean knows it’s not his place to be barking commands here, but Donovan seems to understand.

“Like hell,” Cas snaps angrily. “I have every right to fight.”

Dean can smell his ex’s rage, either because of their past bond or because Cas made the stupid mistake of not putting on scent blockers. Probably both.

“I gave you the order to stay back,” Dean says harshly. Cas jumps when Risa fires a loud shotgun into the skirmish that’s getting closer to the parked convoy. “You’re a danger to yourself and others.”

“And you’re under Hope Springs’ jurisdiction,” Ellen says with authority that makes Dean want to hug her again. “Donovan, do as Dean says. And get him some nourishment, he looks like a gust of wind would knock him over.”

Donovan grabs Cas by the elbow. The omega tries to fight him off but it’s useless. Donovan is about 250 lbs of pure alpha muscle.

“You keep him safe,” Dean tells the other hunter.

“Will do,” Donovan says, saluting him. He drags Cas off as the omega switches erratically between pleas towards Ellen and Donovan and profanities shouted at Dean in several different languages.

Dean turns to Ellen as the rest of his team join him, armed and somewhat ready. Most of them are firing occasional shots. Most bullets from the new volunteers are followed by those from the more experienced hunters, meaning that the first ones probably missed.

“What are they after?” Dean asks Ellen. He’s never seen anything like it before. And with two demons on opposing sides?

“I don’t know. Could be a hundred things. We’re pretty sure they received an inside tip, though.” Ellen’s expression turns from her default neutral to bitter and cold.

“You-you think someone here would do that?” Chuck stutters.

Now there may be even more of a threat.

“One of our back gates was opened with the passcode. It changes daily. The salt lines and devil’s traps were broken. You know our security,” Ellen tells Dean. She has to nearly yell now over the noise of the battle that’s quickly making its way closer.

Dean nods. Hope Springs hasn’t had a single croat or demon attack in the four years since it was set up. “Give us your orders, ma’am.”

Ellen quirks her lips up so subtly and so quickly that Dean almost misses it. “Dean, assign someone to get answers from the civilians in the safe zones. What the demons are after, who might have let them in.”

Dean nods at Chuck, who looks shocked (as do some of the other members of the team). “Me?” the prophet asks.

“Yeah, you,” Dean tells him. Sure, Chuck’s people skills are awful, but his croat fighting skills are even worse. He doesn’t normally come on missions unless it’s crucial. Dean hates putting certain lives in front of others’, but Chuck has value. As a… well, a toilet paper hoarding inventory checker, but also as a friend. “Start with the women and children,” Dean says, knowing Chuck couldn’t intimidate a newborn kitten. Then he has an idea. “You can work with Cas. You know, good cop, bad cop.” Cas is cranky and violent enough to get information out of some of the tougher civilians.

“O-okay,” Chuck agrees. Dean likes that plan. Chuck will be safe. Cas will be safe and also feel useful.

Ellen continues. “Dean, you look for the red-eyed demon and get what you can out of him. The rest of you,” she looks to Dean’s band of soldiers and misfits, “fight like hell. Listen to the hunters here, unless something doesn’t seem right to you. Remember, we don’t know who the traitor is. If you see someone you think is infected, don’t keep it to yourself, even if it’s your best friend. If you see a stray civilian, your priority is to get them to safety.”

Ellen is a good leader. He sometimes wishes she and Jo would come to Camp Chitaqua, but they deserve better conditions than that.

Dean looks to his team. Some of them are nodding in agreement to what Ellen has told them to do. Many of them look petrified. Dean can easily point out which ones are least likely to make it. It’s a skill he’s been forced to become desensitized to.

“Alright,” he tells them, trying his best to look and sound confident. “Let’s go give ‘em hell!”

The group makes their way into the main street and one of the newbies immediately goes down. Ellen blows the croat’s brains out within two seconds but it’s too late. The boy’s neck has been broken.

“Keep moving!” Dean yells, trying not to focus on the teenager’s mate’s screaming. He can’t think about it. Dean can never think about how he would react if it were Cas lying there on the ground, lifeless. He has to remind himself that his—no, not _his—_ omega is being led to safety by one of the most competent hunters Dean has ever met.

As the group pushes forwards and starts to disperse, the young girl’s cries become more distant. The boy’s mate isn’t following. Dean turns back to tell her that she has to leave the body just in time to see her put a gun in her mouth and pull the trigger.


	15. Part 7: Hope - Chapter 4/?

Dean marches forward, refusing to look back at the doomed mated couple. He takes in the horror on everyone’s faces and tries not to let it reflect on his own. He has become very desensitized to death, more so now than when the most he had to worry about was vampires and wendigos. Nowhere is safe now. Croatoan infection seems more common than someone coming down with the flu. What’s harder than the death and gore is witnessing the wreckage left behind. The broken people losing everything that once kept them going.

A few members of Dean’s small group slow down, distracted and upset by the loss of two young mates. One of the peppier camp members, a young woman who had been an avid follower of Cas’ back in his orgy days, tries to boost the morale of the team as they start to disperse across the main street. Her voice shakes as she gives encouragement. She’s trying to stay strong for her team. If the girl makes it through this, Dean wants to personally thank her.

Dean forces out an order to keep moving. The nickname “fearless leader” rings in the alpha’s head. It’s not a title that Dean is fond of but it is a title that he puts up a front to maintain. Fearless is far from the truth, though. “Good faker” is much closer.

Somewhere nearby, the town’s emergency sirens blare for the first time in the history of Hope Springs, aside from drills. The residents are as prepared as they can be, though. Croats are not affected by holy water or the word Christo. Salt can slow them down but won’t stop the bastards. Everyone who is able is equipped with guns and knives. Dean thinks he saw a guy with a katana.

Ellen stays on Dean’s six as they pick their way through the street. The first-timers stay close to the more experienced hunters who offer cover and hit a lot of croats that the newbies miss. Ellen moves a little closer to Dean after he fails to hit a croat coming out of an alley on his first shot. She knows the alpha can fend for himself but she’s always been protective of Dean and his brother. Ellen’s behavior has only gotten more maternal since Sam turned himself over to the Devil.

“So how have you been?” she asks Dean. Small talk during a crisis is a skill that the seasoned hunters have mastered. “Besides hard to reach.”

“Same old,” Dean replies vaguely. “And you? How are you and Jo?”

Ellen aims over Dean’s shoulder and takes out a croat. It seems to be her way of avoiding the question because she stays silent. Dean doesn’t push.

The street lights start to flicker, casting ominous shadows across the stretch of road. Dean hears a low growl to his right and swings his shotgun in that direction, fear spiking.

“It’s just the shepherds,” Ellen explains. Her voice takes on an uncharacteristically gentle tone and Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He can still feel the phantom pains of sharp claws tearing his chest to shreds when he thinks of those bastard hellhounds.

Dean tries to shake it off as the lights flicker, dim, then turn off altogether.

“The generators will kick in any second now,” one of Ellen’s hunters assures him. Sure enough, the power returns.

_ Thank god, _  Dean thinks. It’s almost dusk and no light means lower accuracy, especially for the hardly-trained camp members.

Dean mind wanders and he wonders how Cas is doing and, as an afterthought, how Chuck is doing. He wonders if they made it safely to the sheltered areas with Donovan. The walkie clipped to Ellen’s belt loop is in low volume. Dean glances at it, thinking that they probably wouldn't be able to hear it over the commotion of gunfire and screaming if there were any problems.

“He’ll be fine,” Ellen chides. She has always had such a clear read on Dean, even when he thinks he is hiding things so well.

The alpha laughs under his breath. “If I didn’t know you any better I’d think  _ you _  were the psychic this place has been hiding.”

Ellen’s mouth quirks up subtly for just a moment.

“Do you have any idea who gave you up?”

Ellen reloads her shotgun and aims into an alley. “No, but if push comes to shove we have another card up our sleeve.” She suddenly freezes and taps Dean’s arm. Dean follows her gaze into the alley where a dark, still figure stands at the far end.

“Keep going, I’ll take care of this,” Dean tells her. Ellen nods and pushes forward as Dean steps into the darkness.

The alpha lets his eyes adjust before approaching the stout man clad in an expensive dark suit. “Crowley.”

“Winchester,” the demon greets him cheerily. A deep growl of a hellhound rumbles behind him and Dean’s blood runs cold. “Fancy meeting you here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Feedback keeps me motivated and I always comment back. <3  
> A big thank you to everyone who has supported me from the beginning or just jumped in in the middle with the sweetest (or sometimes angry, which I deserve) words. This was only ever meant to be a porny one-shot and then... look at what it has become. I couldn't have done it without you all. There is still much more to come.


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